It's been a mixed bag of a weekend. The hoomans keep fussing around me, trying to get me to eat ice cubes and sticking their hands in my chops and having a good rummage around, and all because I've lost a few teeth. Ok, to be fair I've lost a lot of teeth the last few days, and it has made me a bit on the grizzly side, but that's no excuse to keep invading my space every five minutes.
On the plus side, I met some new mates on Saturday. Mr S went up to see Oasis at Wembley on Saturday night (he came back stinking of beer and sweat, and has the nerve to say I need a bath!) so Mrs S stayed in with a friend, Mrs W, to drink vodka and watch some rubbish TV programme about some awful glamour model and her hideous ex-pop star husband and the reason why they've split up... she's probably a cat lover or something...
Anyway, Mrs W brings her two mutts over to play so at least I had some sensible canine company for a while.
Yesterday was spent trying to ignore the hoomans as they attempted their 'training' practise. Yes I can 'sit' 'stand' get 'down' and 'stay'... but honestly, why would I want to? It's far more fun pretending I haven't got a scooby what they are on about and looking blankly at them with big brown eyes. It can be worth the treat on occasion, especially when they switch to cheese, but frankly I'm looking forward to seeing Mr S try any or all of the above with me at the last puppy training class tonight... who knows whether I'll be in the mood to comply?
Chowser for nowser!
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